


choice.

by cherryade



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 23:35:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17693300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryade/pseuds/cherryade
Summary: He is incapable of meeting Alec’s concerned gaze, one that he knows will morph into unwarranted guilt when Magnus spills his heart to the only person he trusts to hold it. (Post 3x10, Magnus-losing-magic angst)





	choice.

“Magnus, it’s 6.30 in the morning.”

Magnus’ smile is bitter as he sips at his gin. Alec frowns at him from the doorway of their bedroom, arms folded across his chest.

“It’s alcohol no matter what time you drink it, darling,” Magnus replies. He swirls the liquid and the ice cubes clink against the glass.

“Don’t deflect,” Alec snaps. Magnus lets his eyes trace the tune that decorates the left side of Alec’s neck. His gaze flicks up to take in the set of his handsome jaw and the steel in his resolve. Something in him shrivels and he sighs, hating the way his stomach burns as his fourth tumbler of the night churns. 

“Go back to bed, Alec,” he murmurs. He offers Alec a tired smile. “I’ll join you when I’m done.” He feels every single one of his 300 odd years of existence like a smothering fog. 

Alec makes a frustrated noise at the back of his throat and stalks forward. He plucks the tumbler out of Magnus’ unresisting fingers. 

“You’re done,” Alec says, placing the tumbler on the tray and pushing it to the other end of the coffee table. He kneels before Magnus and reaches out to cup his cheek. The contact burns and Magnus wants to scream. 

“Talk to me,” Alec says softly, earnestly. Magnus feels tears well in his eyes as he stares at his hands. He is incapable of meeting Alec’s concerned gaze, one that he knows will morph into unwarranted guilt when Magnus spills his heart to the only person he trusts to hold it. 

“I was taking a shortcut through an alley on my way home last night. There was a rouge vampire feeding on a mundane. By the time I made it to the end of the alley...” Magnus feels the sob that erupts like a physical blow. He buries his face in his hands and the full weight of his misery hits him like a freight train. 

“I couldn’t do anything to save him,” he chokes out. “So I called Luke and Raphael. Then I came home.” 

“Magnus,” Alec breathes. “I’m so sorry.” 

Magnus’ voice hitches as he says, “You have nothing to be sorry for. If I could turn back time, I would make the same choice.”

“For Jace?” Alec asks and Magnus looks up. The guilt that he didn’t want to see is written all over his face and hangs in the air like a shroud. Magnus smiles crookedly.

“For you, Alexander,” he murmurs, reaching out to caress the man’s furrowed brow. “The part of your soul that you share with him. I did it for you.”

Alec’s face crumples. He surges forward, wrapping Magnus in his arms.

Outside, the light edges onto the balcony as the sun begins to rise.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no claim over the characters or the plot. I do, however, wonder how this went in a completely opposite direction from how I originally envisioned it.


End file.
